The Ashenblade family arrived at the Nightraven estate just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cliffs of the Shadowed Coast. The estate was a sprawling fortress carved into the dark stone, its towers reaching skyward like jagged fangs.

The air was thick with mist, the sound of crashing waves echoing from the sea below.

Damien stepped from the carriage, his gaze sweeping over the gathered figures awaiting them. The other great families had already arrived. Standing at the forefront were their leaders, each exuding an aura of command.

Lady Morganna Nightraven was the first to approach. She moved with a graceful elegance, her dark cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows. Her piercing violet eyes seemed to see right through Damien. “Welcome, Ashenblades,” she said, her voice smooth yet commanding. “And you must be Damien.”

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Damien inclined his head respectfully. “It’s an honor, Lady Morganna.”

Next was Lord Gareth Drakenshield, a towering figure clad in heavy armor that gleamed even in the dim light. His handshake was firm, his voice deep and steady. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself, young Ashenblade. I look forward to seeing if the rumors hold true.”

Finally, Lady Evanna Silverthorn stepped forward, her silver hair catching the faint light. She carried herself with a quiet confidence, her sharp blue eyes assessing Damien carefully. “A pleasure,” she said with a slight smile. “I’ve heard much about you.”

The introductions complete, the families moved inside, where a grand hall awaited. The atmosphere was tense but respectful, the weight of history and responsibility hanging over them all.